Sin Laced and Pain Prior
by Thoughts of a Fallen Angel
Summary: Draco has long undergone abuse from his father and colleagues and is starved for love. But when rival Harry Potter wants to offer all he needs, will he be able to accept, or will his past get in the way? -During 7th year and on-going-R&R please!
1. Prologue

A/N: Thank you all so much for reviewing my last story, since it gave me the courage to write up another one. Sorry its taken so long, but with the Holidays underway and all, I was distracted and drawn away from writing a lot. R&R please! :3

Prologue

Draco hurried across the school grounds, the cool morning air adding moisture to the sweat on his face as he ran.

_Why do you go to him everytime, if he's your father_, a little voice in his head whispered. _It doesn't become a Malfoy, to get on your knees and-_

Draco stopped the voice quickly as his father came into view at the edge of the forest, knowing that he had Legimens intact at all times, and could easily read his traitorous thoughts. And wouldn't that just make him happy, to have a reason to punish Draco... _Stop! Not now! _Draco thought to himself, steeling himself against the anxiety and nervousness he obviously gave off.

''Draco, what a pleasure to see you,'' Lucius Malfoy quipped, looking disinterested in all but a few of his son's affairs. ''Well, don't just stand there, come and greet your master...''

* * *

Draco felt as if he was going to suffocate as he walked slowly, trying to be easy on the twinges of familiar pain that came with every one of his father's 'visits'. Drying his tears did no good, and he sobbed freely behind the greenhouses, grieved that his father now had a new way to get to him, since Draco would be staying at Hogwarts for the remainder of the year due to extensive tutoring and study sessions for upcoming NEWTS. At first he had been delighted, but when his father had flooed him the night before he knew he was in for some kind of trouble. Especially when Lucius requested he meet with him at the edge of the Forest, and declining a meeting with his father was unacceptable, as he knew from prior experience. Malfoys never decline a request from their seniors, his father had stated with plain anger in his words.

But what was it to be a Malfoy, if he did nothing but kiss the hems of all the lunatics around him. He just didn't know. He was Draco Malfoy, star student, Slytherin seeker and Head Boy, future Death Eater, and Daddy's little whore.


	2. Brutal Facts

A/N:Thanks so much for all the reviews! keep reviewin, though, or withholding will be nesscesary:P Love you all! :3

The Great Hall seemed deafening as Draco stood outside, his heart pounding in his chest. Never before had his father put him in a situation like this, so Draco had no beginning of an idea as to what he would have to do to seem normal. Usually after his encounters

he would escape to his rooms for hours at a time, but with the Dark Mark ceremony he was sure all the faculty knew of was approaching, therefore his presence proved him innocent.

What would his fellow Slytherins say? Would they notice he'd been crying? Did they already know because of his behavior or their parents' connections with Lucius? Questions alike banged their way around in Draco's head, and he fought to keep his expression neutral as he strode inside the doors, missing the inquiring looks form all tables but his own, his destination clearly on his radar.

Pansy looked almost shocked as he sat down, so late to breakfast that Snape was probably glaring at him, but Draco paid him no mind, instead risking a glance at the Dumbledore. Safe, for now. To his chargrin Snape chose instead to rise from his seat at the head table and walked briskly over to him, stopping at his side and glarig down his hawkish nose.

''Mr. Malfoy, do you have any idea of the turmoil you caused by sleeping in? Thanks to your tardiness, Dumbledore has insisted I change all your curriculum so that you will be in no way able to escape without him or McGonagall knowing! There was almost a search party sent out after you to ensure your presence. Are you happy?'' Snape hissed down at him, making Draco's blood boil and tears well at the mention of sleeping in. Reigning in his emotions, he snapped, ''Happy? As if you have any idea...'' he trailed off, not wanting to give way to the humiliation of the situation. ''Never mind.''

''Fine then, continue your breakfast and go on to class. You have charms with the Gryffindors. Don't be late.'' His Godfather warned, his irritation plain.

''No worries,_ Sev_, I'm already finished.'' he bit as he stood and stomped out of the Hall, just barely managing to escape behind a tapestry before the tears fell freely.

* * *

Harry watched from the Gryffindor table with his friends as a stress-ridden Malfoy came into the Great Hall and took his seat at the Slytherin table, not left in peace long before Snape marched over to him, unhappiness at the situation evident. Everyone knew the silent rule for the present 6th and 7th year Slytherins: Be where expected to be, on time. And Malfoy had just broken that rule.

Ron apparently couldn't contain his merriment at a Slytherin getting busted, and chose to laugh uproariously with Dean and Seamus at the ''bloody hilarious irony'' of the situation, not paying the retreating Malfoy any attention.

Harry soon followed on behind, mumbling an excuse to Hermione as she nodded, not taking her focus away from her book.

Not finding anyone in the Entrance Hall or left corridors, Harry went on to Charms, barely outside before the bell rang.

* * *

As Flitwick droned on about a new water charm they would be researching, Draco stared out the window, his usual attentiveness amiss. He had always wanted to impress Lucius with his school-work, but could never measure up to Granger, the Gryffindor Geek.

He ached in all sorts of places, and cuts and bruises twinged unhappily whenever he would fidget in his hard-backed chair. His mark itched, and he wanted to curl up and sleep from exhaustion right there in the Charms classroom.

The worst part of it all was that he had to sit next to a different Gryffindor every period, thanks to 'his' fuck-up of the day, in his godfather's eyes. It seemed that no matter how much he preened and showed off to others, he was never good enough for the ones he cared about. Neighbor to him was Seamus Finnigan, who just then blew up his fact sheets and quill with a practice _water_ charm, for christsakes!

It was going to be a Long day.

* * *

Transfiguration proved uneventful, between his semi-decent partner (Thomas) and the blundering idiot (Weasley) that dragged away McGonagall's glare long enough for Draco to take a deep breath and wonder why in the hell everyone's anger was directed at him. It wasn't his fault, and it certainly wasn't like he _asked _to be a plaything for his father, the Dark Lord, and all of his followers in-between! Of course, none of them could know about that, since to take the slave mark you had to be willing, which under circumstances, Draco was. And no one could find that out, because while it wasn't the Dark Mark, it was almost twice as horrific to bear. Lucky for him, that wouldn't happen..until he got paired with the world's worst Potion-trainee, besides Weasley and Longbottom (thank Merlin he wasn't partners with that oaf).

* * *

Slouching in his seat was not an option under his godfather's stern gaze. Potter was seated next to him, supposedly just as miserable as Draco was about the now-permanent arrangement. Potter, like the blundering idiot he was, just had to put in newt's tail instead Barn owl feathers, creating and causing a new toxic acid to spray from the cauldron, all over Draco's left arm and robes as he threw an arm up over his face. Snape cursed and hastened over to them, at once trying to disrobe Draco, realizing what he was doing, he cried out and thrashed wildly, trying to get away. When at last all but his jeans and jumper came off, Draco cringed and tucked his arms up under his shirt, trying and failing to hide most of the bruises his generous torturer left for him. Quiet blanketed the room. Afraid to move, Draco instead kept his head firmly low, until Snape growled low in his throat and grabbed ahold of his collar, baring the rest of his throat. He knew his Mark shimmered, an emerald dragon surrounded by gaelic binding symbols gleaming; his damning permanent collar.


	3. Answered By Malicious

A/N: thanks for all that have reviewed, and many kisses to those that i hope will continue to review! as for those of you that just read and leave, shame on you! An author draws strength from the hopes and opinions of her readers! Give me your reviews:!:3 Luv you all,

Thoughts Of A Fallen Angel

P.S.- chapters will be withheld unless bribed by reviews- just sayin:P

o o o o

''What. Have. You. _Done?_'' Snape growled, his anger emanating off him in waves. ''How could you be so..thoughtless, so..._whorish?_ What in all the Seven Hells possessed you to take a fate worse then death?"

At Draco's stony expression, Snape whipped his head around, as if only then realizing there were other students present. ''Get out! All of you, get out! Class is dismissed!''

At his bark of irritation, the room soon emptied, leaving only the two Slytherin representitives. Snape whirled on him, completly missing Draco's whimper of fear. ''Why?'' Was all he asked, thought the other questions hung in the air between them, the tension growing by the second.

" I didn't have a choice-" he began, but Snape cut him off.

"Bollocks! There is always a choice, that is the point, to make _willing_ followers!So what did you do, or maybe I should be asking why you took the most hated mark in all of wizarding history?"

"It was this or die! I was a traitor, I had lain with no one and called myself a future Death Eater, and they called me a disgrace. That was eleven years ago. What do you think they called me a mere year later, when my _father_ was the one who made me a man and shared me with his fellow followers of the Lunatic Lord? I was given everything they believe a little whore should get: pain and more to come on through the years."

It was obvious Snape had been expecting something much more defensive to his own self, but Draco had said his piece, and walked out of the room, fake haughtiness not enough to stop the memories and curiosity of the Boy Who Lived, who had sat underneath his invisiblity cloak and heard everything...not that Draco knew that.

Draco was in store for some therapy he may or may not want, but was going to get anyway.

* * *

The uproar in the common room was almost unbearable as Draco pushed his way through the painting of old Salazar himself. Ignoring all inquiries of his health from the younger years, and curiosity and disgust about his mark from the older, Draco finally made his way to his chambers, private due to his Head Boy priviledges, and collapsed on the bed inside. Relief and exhaustion flooded him at once, tears drying on his face as he fell into a fitfull sleep.

* * *

Harry ran to catch up with his friends as the bell for dinner sounded, rambling off an excuse about forgetting his Potion's book.

Ron and Mione shrugged, too caught up in each other latlely to care, in Harry's opinion. When they reached the Gryffindor table, Harry glanced around, but when he saw no sign of Malfoy, sat down and emerged himself in an intense discussion about who would win the Quidditch finals, England or Scotland. After teasing Ron about his crush on England's chaser, Melaine Tarsus (Seamus), and wincing from a sound slap from Hermione for spilling pudding on her book (Ron), the boys quieted, everyone's eyes going to the door as a miserable-looking Malfoy came in, his robes disheveled and face gaunt. Ron at once took up his own sneer, which surprised Harry. Ron had never been particularly hostile torward Malfoy, choosing merely to call him ferret behind his back or to finish the usual fights, but never start them. Even Hermione looked confused at his reaction, and Harry had begun to think they knew everything about each other. Guess not.

Ron saw their expressions and said, "What? He deserves it. Didn't you guys see his mark?"

Thinking back to the earlier conversation he had overheard, he wondered "Yeah, but what is it? What's it mean? And why was Snape so mad?"

Hermione jumped in, her bookworm skills for once providing something more than useful. "The mark is considered a taboo, Harry, and a disgrace. It was invented by Voldemort 18 years ago and is the mark of a slave...a sex slave."

Ron nodded. "To have the mark you have to be willing to recieve it. Looks like devil-may-care badass Draco couldn't find any self-respecting witch or wizard that would be with him, so he jumped after the only thing that would. You-Know-Who."

" Not just Voldemort. There's no way Draco could have had...never mind. What I want to know is why was he willing? Surely there was someone that wanted him. Maybe he was coerced into it," Harry suggested.

Hermione shook her head, her unruly curls bouncing. "It's not that simple Harry. To take the mark, you must make a choice. For them to have 'coerced him', as you said, it would have to have been a very big choice, or a descision with only one way out, that way out being taking the Mark."

At that comment, the trio turned at looked at Malfoy, Hermione with sympathy, Harry with his curiosity renewed, and Ron with a malice Harry was sure was going to cause problems.

* * *

A/N: Yay, a new chapter! Free smileys and personal comments to everyone who reviews! :3


	4. Friends and Enemies Helping?

A/N: Love all those who reviewed, but im still craving more opinions! Give me your opinions! thats what fuels my determination to write faster, you know. So, the more reviews I get, the faster you'll have the end to Harry and Draco's little story. As to any who wonder how long my story will be, im not really sure. I guess its up to you guys. Tell me how long you want it to be, and i'll sum up my plan for romance any way you like! But if you're going to email me with a request, you have to review! To my last reviewer, Baka-san, i give you a cookie ~hands you cookie~ and my thanks. R&R if ya want more! Love you all, my faithful readers! :3

* * *

Hell. That was what Draco would describe his headache as, if he were coherent enough to talk, that is. Why Dumbledore gave free reign to house-elf orders by the students, Draco would never understand. At least not until he had about three gallons of hangover potion, at any rate. Damned tempting whiskey. Damned helpful and annoying house elfs. But most of all damn the only Slytherins who both never left his side and were currently annoying the hell out of him and doubling the force of his headache. Pansy, with her sickening way of making him feel better by coercion and then bad later, and Blaise trying unsuccesfully to make him laugh when he wanted to do nothing more then fall into a coma to escape the shite his life was now occupied by. Gone were the days of controlling mindless minions, tormenting Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, and being the arrogant prick his father had shaped him to be. Replaced by torment by Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and even fellow Slytherins, including his mindless minions. The only thing that hadn't changed was that he still wanted to beat the happy out of every Hufflepuff he came in contact with, and they were so cheerful he was inclined to think they just might let him. Of course, once gossip caught up with him, he was sure even the Hufflepuffs would hate him.

That brought on another twinge of depression and he demanded to Pansy to give him back his liquor. Pansy only smirked. "Darling, if you drink even an ounce more of that atrocious whiskey you so love, the hangover potion I'm about to give you won't have any effect. And then you'll be a right bitch to all of us, and we certainly can't have that, now can we?"

"Gonna be a bitch? Then, what do you call what he's being right-" Blaise said, stopping shortly with a grunt as Pansy elbowed him in the ribs.

"Draco, we still don't know the why of your Mark. Can't you tell us anything?" Pansy said, her voice portraying her concern for Draco's current state.

Draco sighed. He loved his friends, he really did, but he just couldn't tell them. Not yet, not ever. It was too painful and humiliating. "I'm sorry Pans, but the truth is, I just..can't. Not yet." Sure, he lied at the last bit, but where was the point in making them worry? They had each other, but he had no one. No one to love, or even lose, except his friends, and those blasted Hufflepuffs. Even his own Godfather hated him for what he was. A Freak in the highest terms. He knew it too. He sighed sadly. Caught up in his bouts of self-pity, he didn't notice Pansy's look of determination. It was time to bring in help.

* * *

Hermione was amazing, but boy could she drone, Harry thought groggily to himself as Hermione set yet-another dusty tome in front of him, as if hoping one more piece of 'light reading' material could make his brain swell big enough for him to pass his Ancient Runes, Potions, and Defense against the Dark Arts written and hands-on exams. Not that he needed any help in the Dark Arts department, if his opinion was worth anything. He snorted to himself, earning disapproving glances from Hermione and Madam Pince. Sheesh. If there mutual behaviors and opinions were anything to go on, then they could be related. It five minutes after dawn, and on a Saturday, to boot! Ron would've laughed at him had he not been tossed out of bed by Hermione's _Locomotus_ spell, and now snoring in a chair. Noticing, Hermione threw a water jinx at him, smirking at his soaked ass falling out of his chair and onto the hard floor, effectively waking him up. Harry could only laugh uproariously, forcing Madam Pince to levitate him out into the corridor, warning him to 'clean up his act before he came back into her domain'. Harry was still chuckling to himself, so caught up in the humor of Ron's reaction that he didn't notice the pale pair of hands on his shirt until they were yanking him into an empty classroom.

* * *

Harry stared into the brown eyes of Pansy Parkinson, shock written all over his face. "Why am i her-" he asked, cut off by Pansy clamping a hand over his mouth. Putting a finger to her lips, she quickly stepped out in the hall. Coast clear, she stepped into the dusty room and began to cast silencing charms and alert wards. Sitting cross-legged on a desk, she signaled for him to begin.

"What am I doing here?" He asked. "What do you want?"

"I need your help." she said, her smugness increasing. I want Draco to realize it's possible to feel loved and appreciated by someone besides his friends- and to get some happiness to dent that horrid depression of his." A small frown appeared between her brows as she sat lost in thought.

Harry stood, speechless. Recovering, he asked, "So...what do you need me for?"

Pansy threw up her hands in exasperation. "Havent' you been listening? I want to set up Draco and make him happy!"

"You want to set Draco Malfoy..up with.. me?"

Pansy laughed at the thought of her best friend with the Golden Boy. Well..it wasn't too unappealing, and they were very much alike...No. She had a plan, and she would be turned into a banshee and sent to Hell before she would let anything get in the way of it. "Not permanently, just until I can get him to fall in love with someone else."

Gah, women were confusing! "And you want me to put him in the line of someone else?"

"Yep..and that's where Blaise comes in."

Now Harry was _really_ confused. Wasn't Blaise with Pansy? Directing his new line of thought to her, he asked, "Aren't you with Blaise?"

Pansy looked almost horrified. "Blaise? No, he's like a brother to me, I could never date him. I like Theo."

Harry made a face. "Theo?"

"Theodore Nott, helloo? He's really hot, thank you. Besides, Blaise has had a crush on Draco since we were kids. He's not likely to turn him down. Anyway, so I take that as a yes?"

Not waiting for an answer, she chirped, "Great! Meet me here after dinner so we can get started on everything you need to say to Draco. Bye!"

Harry just looked after her as she skipped away, apparently delighted her plan was in motion. _Women,_ Harry thought as he shook his head to himself. _They get crazier every year._

Oh, well. He had to get ready for Malfoy School.

* * *

A/N: Ooohh what do we have here? hehe, didnt see that one coming, didja? well, thats all ive got, Review! :3


	5. Remembering

A/N: Thanks for all who reviewed, but I have to inform you all that I just can't write anything that's good without reviews. Please R&R, :3

* * *

Draco's chest clenched painfully as the Slytherin Beaters on either side of him crushed him between them, his shoulder cracking as waves of pain laced up his arm. It had been a horrid three days since the incident in Potion's class, and even though Pansy assured him it would all get better, it just got worse. His suspicions about the Hufflepuffs had been right; two fourth years from Hufflepuff had knocked his bookbag out of his arms that morning, effectively humiliating him outside McGonagall's classroom, who in turn did nothing to save her now-least favorite student.

Even Quidditch, one of the only things that had ever helped to clear his mind of things, had become a slice of hell. He could in fact go nowhere to think without being picked on or childishly bullied by all but few students and members of the faculty. What would his father say? Hah. Draco didn't even want to breach that subject. Not ever.

All at once the lights of the stadium blinded him as the gate was opened, and Slytherin's team flew out to hover in front of Gryffindor's. Potter looked at him strangely, as if trying to glance inside his thought-ridden mind. Attention was apparently the only thing left on Draco's side as the whistle blew and Potter just sat there looking at him, not realizing Draco was a good fifty meters in front of him until it was too late. Something small glinted in Draco's pepherial vision, causing him to veer suddently to the left, almost making Weasley fall off his broom as he swerved inches from him. Served him right, too.

Draco dove, looking up just in time to see Pansy motioning violently at something behind him. Startled, Draco glanced behind him, not noticing the upcoming balcony and canvas of the Gryffindor bleachers until he smashed headfirst into it. Blackness welcomed him as the tension left him, finally.

* * *

Draco woke to find both teams looking at him, most with ferocious scowls, but the Slytherins were actually...gleeful. Did they really hate him that much? he wondered.

Madam Pomfery answered that for him, saying, "You caught the snitch as you went down, dear boy. Slytherin won the House cup for the first time in 7 years." She smiled, warm despite her disapproval of Slytherin. "Good job. Now, I expect you to get washed up and in bed. No damage whatsoever that i couldn't fix, thank Merlin, but sleep is the thing you need. Just ring for me if you need a Draught."

All Gryffindors frowned at this, but Draco just took it as a sign of luck and hoped his teammates were a little nicer in the future. _How ironic,_ He thought to himself as he made his way down to the locker rooms. _Last year, you would have been bossing them around and being a git, but looks like irony's a bitch, isn't she?_

Draco sighed as his tired muscles were soothed by the spray, all aches receeding as the stress that had built up the last few days. Reaching for the soap, he began to wash himself languidly, humming until his fingers brushed over the silky smoothness of his tattoo. Draco frowned. Sure, he sometimes forgot it was there, but it never felt like this..like he was..out of a comfort zone, or something. Dismissing the thought, he took up humming again, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a pair of hot, strong arms grabbed him from around the waist and squeezed him painfully. Draco froze, unsure of his attacker's motives. A chuckle sounded in his ears. "Oh poor wittle Draco. You didn't know that everyone has access to the showers, did you? Maybe that's why some little whores should lock themselves in, or they might just find themselves some very unhappy visitors." Ron Weasley stepped even closer, pressing his hips against Draco brutally. He shivered in fear, but Ron mistook his movement for pleasure. "What? You like that?" His astonishment quickly returned to scorn and anger. "Fine, you want roughness? You'll get it," he sneered as he brought his hand down,striking Draco. Draco backed away slowly, the metallic taste and sting in his cheek intensifying his fear.

_Gotta think, gotta think. _Damn it! His wand was more than 8 feet away in the pocket of his robes, and the only wandless magic he could do was read at an extremely high speed. His Mark purred from contact, unpleasant as it was. Vibrations went throught him to Weasley, whose anger increased. "Just couldn't help being and snide little weasel, and now a filthy little whore? Well guess what? You are mine, ferret. You want to be whored out; you like pain? You got it." Baring his teeth in a ferocious scowl, Ron pressed Draco against the shower wall and _accio_ed his wand.

White hot flashes of pain reverberated throughout his skin as slashes were created down his shoulders and back. Time grew increasingly sluggish as Draco pointlessly tried to keep the sobs Weasley delighted in to halt in his throat.

So this was hell.

* * *

Draco eased himself onto his bed gingerly, grateful he could be naked since he had a private room. Too bad he hadn't ever apprecitated his prefect privileges before. He didn't think he would be able to stand the rustle of robes or any clothing at all for a long while. Hence the reason he was breathing deeply into his vanilla-scented sheets on a Monday. Worst of all, though, was that he had to do it all over again twice or more times a month until he graduated, a whole 9 months away. Merlin how he wished he had just chosen to die that night...

Closing his eyes, Draco thought back to last summer, hazy whiteness becoming all he saw as he relived how his hell came to be.

_Draco sat on his bed, reorganizing his potions' kit for his new classes in the fall. He was aiming to be a apothecarist, much to his father's intense dislike and his godfather's rarely-shown glee. He wanted everything to be perfect. Now that Severus was back in the position of Potion's Master instead of that fool Slughorn, he could finally achieve his goals and stop staring at Potter's sheepish expression when Slughorn called him up to demonstrate his bloody "genius."_

_A crash sounded from downstairs as Draco was fastening the silver lock on the chest containing his journal (his mother insisted on an outlet for all the teenage angst he supposedly had bottled up; she also said it would help him to be remembered .) Bollocks. Any journal of his would be a serious portrayal of his thoughts, none of that pansy ' went for a stroll today' shit. Not that he had the said Bollocks to tell his mother that..._

_The blonde rose from his bed when his door slammed violently open. His father stood there, holding what looked to be a rag-muffin by his scruffy collar. "What is this?" His father demanded; Draco's flinch at Lucius furious expression only angered him more. "What is THIS? Have you been having relations with this..this..FILTH?" Lucius roared. The young Malfoy's gaze dropped to the gardener's assistant and Draco's first and only lover, Brax. He and Draco had fooled around a bit and done nothing serious, but had been careful. So they had thought anyhow. _

_"I found him cleaving roses and writing a suspicious looking note, and confiscated it. Apparently, this boy thinks he loves you. Isn't that hilarious?" He bit out, letting venom sound through at the last._

_Draco mustered his courage. "Actually, I think..it's brazen but ..very sweet._

_Time stopped for a whole 8 seconds, Draco swore._

_Lucius dropped Brax and began to stalk towards him. "You betray me in such a way? You are Mine. I have made you mine, just as my father made me his. Although you were not as willing as I had been, I regret that I must punish you for your unfaithfulness. Malfoys do not betray, son. It is out of my hands."_

_Draco stood in the Manor's foyer, waiting for his father by his instructions with his heart thumping wildly. He couldn't stand it. His father's punishments were always dreadful, but this was no sneaking out to see a show or band or stealing food from the kitchens or even hexing his tutors. The blonde, while albeit a blonde, wasn't an idiot. He knew he had run a traitor's risk, but he just couldn't stand having his first time __**after**__ he graduated! And he certainly wasn't gong to hop on Pansy or any other girl. Best if he didn't tell Lucius that, either. Too bad he had chickened out in the gardens last week. Then at least he could have his father kill him and he wouldn't have died a virgin. He sighed._

_A scraping of boots on the marble floors caused Draco to turn, but a blindfold was quickly tied over his eyes, his hands brutally binded. He could hear Narcissa's sobbing, but the lurch of apparition behind his navel mixed with a spell he couldn't identify blocked all thoughts._

_Falling to his knees on a hard surface at wherever he had landed, Draco had the urge to cover his nose in extreme disgust. Where the hell had Lucius taken him? Certainly not to spend the week in this smelly place. Even a mad man like his father was more upstanding than that._

_Voices chatted amiably around him. A gathering? There was no way to know for sure. _

_All sound immediately stopped at the sound of a great hissing. When straining his ears, Draco could dimly hear the sounds of material scraping..stone floors? _

_Fear squeezed his his heart as fingers turned his chin this way and that, inspecting him. He could hear Lucius' deep baratone mixing with the whispers now reverberating around the room. Clear and high, a voice he had only heard once before sent shivers up his back as it spoke. "Ah, Darling Draco. So nice to see you again. How long has it been? Five, six years?" A clucking noise followed the voice as the fingers traced his eyelids through the cloth. "Much, much too long, Lucius. He should have been brought years ago. I assume you have a reason for such a sudden calling." Not a question._

_The man he once thought his father replied "He has lain with filth. He will not be pampered anymore. I have seen signs of sexual activity, though have had no proof until now. I am hoping this will make him of use to you, My Lord, as well as teach him a lesson he will not soon forget."_

_The voice of the Dark Lord spoke again. "Very well. Yaxley, Canon. Bring the tools. It appears we have a new toy to play with."_

_Draco couldn't breathe, couldn't think._

_He was at a Death Eater meeting._

_And he was the entertainment for tonight._

* * *

A/N- So? what doya think? Review! review review review cuz the next ones even better and i need fan love! :3


	6. New Marks

_Cold, rough hands gripped the hollow of Draco's throat roughly, thumbs digging in until air was a thing he sorely missed the taste of._

_A pained gasp ripped through him as a magical needle was brought against the back and botom of his hairline, set to begin the work it was destined for. _

_"We'll ask once more, Draco. Will you take the Mark of Aeil or suffer a brutal death? Answer!"_

_He could only sob harder, tears coursing down a wet trail through the dried filth of grime and proof of others upon his face. Strangled pleas escaped him as he gulped, deep shame within him as he begged with everything he had ever been to be relieved of such a decision. _

_"Please, please, Lucius- Father! You can't do this to me, please, p-please, I'm begging you, please Father, please! Uncle Rab! God, Merlin, please, __**please**__, no, please," Draco sobbed, clutching in vain with his bound hands in front of him, for a scrap of love or mercy. _

_A mixture of evil faces and lust-filled grins before him, Draco screamed as he caught sight of his mother. _

_"Mother! Please, you can't let them do this!" Narcissa shook her head resolutely, turning her back and walking away. _

_"M-Mama! Mama, please!" Draco shrieked at her, causing a shudder to go through her as she forced herself to walk away from her only child._

_A hand gripped his chin forcefully, making him meet cold grey eyes. "Draco. Will you live and please your masters dutifully and with obedience, or die a shameful death? Answer now!"_

_Shivers ran through Draco as he desperately tried to control his panicked breathing. "Y-yes."_

_A stinging slap resounded against his cheek. "Yes, what, you ungrateful little mongrol?"_

_Broken blue eyes met steel as he choked out the condemning words. "Yes, daddy, sir, I will serve you. M-master."_

_Pale skin was pierced, beginning the first of many screams as his collar was woven upon him, to stay forever more._

* * *

A cold sweat shook Draco to his core as her jerked to attention, awake with tears pooling around his eyes. He scrubbed at them angrily, insidious thoughts of simply jumping off the Astronomy tower fresh in his mind.

Weasley's biting grin replaced the thoughts, and a choked cry escaped him as he reeled back in bed, effectively ripping open the scabs from the previous night's encounters.

For two weeks, Draco had been under the collar of Ronald _fucking _Weasley. As if visits with his father weren't enough, the curse around his throat demaded that anyone willing to abuse and use him was to be obeyed. The only defiance Draco could emit was a bit of struggling, and whatever he wanted to say.

Never enough sexual activity was used to get Draco off, but Weasley quickly learned the workings of the Mark and how to make it, and effectively Draco, his bitch.

The memory of the redhead's sinister grin and tight grip on the flogger in the showers was enough to set Draco's teeth grinding in pain as the Mark flared, sending false arousal through him. Blood seeped into his shirt from the deep cuts along his spine, eliciting a wince from the blonde.

Between Pansy literally trying to shove herself up his arse and schedule, and Potter giving him the strangest glances in Potions, Draco honesly felt that this was going to be the week that he fed himself to the giant squid.

At least being Slytherin sushi bait might be better than being bent over a wooden bench and beaten until he bled every other night.

As he scrubbed a hand over his face and climbing gingerly out of bed, Draco wondered if things could get any worse.

A thunderous knock at his chamber door told him that they just fucking might.

* * *

HOLY SNAP GUYS. It's been two years since I've updated this. TWO years, almost three! I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. I found the old files on my flashdrive and a fierce determination awoke in me. I'm terribly sorry it's so short, but I wanted to make sure someone was going to read the fic again before I started back into the long and drawn out process of painstakingly dragging my petunia out of bed to write during the Christmas holidays. Anyhoo, here you go!

P.S. I apologize fifty times over with the darkest bowels of my soul for the grammar and spelling in the last five chapters. AND my author's notes. Holy mother of cheese, what the hell was 14-15 year old me thinking?

Enjoy and read, and review, my lovelies! 3


	7. Who?

WELL. This is another short and simple kind of tidbit, dice of humor for you hungry fishies out there. Thank you again for anyone actually reading this, it's a bit hard to come up with tentacles for the story to branch out with. (if you have ideas, let me know, _please_, I'd love to hear some prompts or tidbit ideas.)

Enjoy! (Sorry it's so small, it's 3:02 AM.)

* * *

Draco, in another life, might have been all for someone barging in on him while he was stark naked in bed.

In this life, however, Draco could do without said someone being his _godfather _and his own alabastor skin sporting marks providing that he was someone's bitch.

Many someones, actually, but that little prideful snooty voice in his head that he could never seem to get rid of? Was not ready to admit that ever, thank you.

"Draconis Abraxas Malfoy, where in the seven levels of Hades, have you _been _all morning? Do you think you somehow get the priviledge of sleeping in on a school day because you've been Marked, illegally, _twice?_" Severus thundered, the pictured of pissed off.

Draco shuddered in mock fear beneath his blankets, fucking thankful for having the sense to pull them over himself. Grabbing his wand, he quickly flicked his curtains shut and dressed, emerging to see a still-enraged Snape hovering in his doorway.

"I've been here, _Sev_, and no, I don't think I have the priviledge or whatever it is you said. I'm just not feeling well," he replied, and as haughtily as he could, grabbed his bookbag and scarf.

Severus snarled, reaching to grab his godson roughly by the back of his shirt, his fingers maybe digging in the skin there, too.

Draco flinched, a pained gasp working its way between his lips as he went white, clutching at his bed post as red bloomed beneath his dress shirt, to Severus' horror.

"What happened?" He demanded, cornering Draco as he pulled out his wand, deftly moving to try and heal the bleeding wound.

The young Malfoy stopped him with a raised hand, grimacing. "Look, I don't-not now, okay? I have class."

"Actually, the Headmistress would like to see you."

That elicited a groan. "Why?"

A hand on Draco's arm made him turn, accept the healing and pain vial waiting, of course, and turn towards the hall closet to the Headmistress's office out of the dungeons. "I can't imagine why, she only said to relay the message and that you were to be there as quickly as manageable." The small sneer Severus tried to wear died as it was replaced by a look of concern. "Draco, was it Lucius?"

Draco shook his head, eyes squeezed shut as he swallowed the potion, sighing when the gashes on his spine closed.

"Who? I will not tolerate-"

"You won't tolerate _what_, Sev? The fact that I'm a whore by _choice_, and you can't change, or dictate, or control anything about it whatsoever? Yeah, okay. I'll see you second block, _Professor,_" Draco snapped, rushing out the door.

Maybe, maybe not, but some swore there were actual tears in the Malfoy heir's eyes as he ran to McGonagall's office.

* * *

The swirling gargoyle was still as creepy as it was in Dumbledore's day, Draco dully noted on his way up. A password wasn't even needed anymore- if you had an appointment, you got in. If the gargoyle liked you, you maybe got in. Otherwise? A blatant "fuck you" could be heard from the gargoyle from halls over, should someone try and force their way in.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," the Headmistress enunciated, always so crisp with her words. "You missed my class yesterday."

Draco winced. McGonagall still taught one Transfiguration class when she wasn't Headmistressing or whatever it is that she did, and it happened to be the only Seventh Year class there was, which of course, Draco was in. Other classes were presided over by a relatively new teacher, Aurora Camp, who'd popped up in the middle of the year with a fantastic reccomendation from Fleur Delacour, the oldest Weasel's wife.

"Er, yes, about that.."

"No need," she interjected. McGonagall's stupid green robes and stupid green hat were a very nice color, that kept distracting him. "What I'd very like to glean from you, Mr. Malfoy, is why I have rumors of students, namely _you _sneaking around after hours by the Quidditch showers?"

Draco was positive he'd never so closely resembled a fish in his life.

Memories of nights since passed in those stupid showers made his Marked tingle and glow, something McGonagall of _course _fucking noticed immediately, one eyebrow cocked and everything, the old bat.

"I'll ask this of you once. Who has been with you after curfew in those showers?"

Draco stayed stubbornly silent, tapping his nails on the arm of his quickly-becoming uncomfortable chair.

"_Mr. Malfoy."_

"I can't tell you alright?" Draco yelled, jumping to his feet. "I can't. It won't let me. Not unless _Master _wishes it of me."

Her shocked impressionation of a goldfish really was the best thing he'd seen all year, but Draco didn't stick around to check if she'd recovered.

He had Advanced Potions to get to.

* * *

On to the next bout of Writers Block! Boo.


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